Not so long ago I wrote a post about why I’ll never give up actual, physical books.

Today, my Kindle arrived.

It’s lovely, truly. It’s everything everyone says it is : Easy to read, even in bright sunlight! Genuinely easy to use! Immediate access to all the books ever written, plus dictionaries for looking up words you don’t know and would otherwise probably just ignore because the dictionary is way over on the other side of the room and you are so comfy on the couch!

It’s also a bit like having great sex with someone you don’t much care about, which is to say, it feels temporary and lacks intimacy. The thing has no soul, no whimsy.

And then there’s this delightful apple green cover I bought for it.

One of the things I treasure about physical books is the way they announce themselves when you hold them — hardcover or soft, the jacket design, the shape and heft. A book has personality. With Kindle, all the books look and feel the same — they all have the same shape, and they all have this same cover.

Still, the treasure is inside, and so I’m giving it a whirl. Maybe I’ll learn to love it, like a one-night stand that surprises and becomes something enduring.